


Healing

by inmyriadbits



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Friendship, Future Fic, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-17
Updated: 2007-07-17
Packaged: 2017-10-02 16:21:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inmyriadbits/pseuds/inmyriadbits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zuko & Katara, post-war. Some scars can heal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Healing

**Author's Note:**

> Written after I watched S1, so no spoilers beyond that...although I was Kripke'd a bit by S2, to my chagrin. Thanks to [thespatz](http://thespatz.livejournal.com/profile) for the beta.

Katara's left hand cupped the side of Zuko's face as she raised her right to his scar. It took all his control and pride not to flinch away from that touch, although it was the merest whisper of pressure through dead tissue. He focused instead on the small, cool fingers holding his face still and steady.

"Close your eyes," Katara said.

Their eyes met for a moment, and he felt the habitual wariness born of old betrayal fade under her direct stare. She smiled then, small and honest, and Zuko closed his eyes.

He heard Katara breathe, felt her heart beat in small movements in her hand. Clean-smelling water flowed up his cheek, over his eye. Zuko felt a knot tighten inside his chest and rise to his throat, and he fought not to let it show.

They sat that way for a long time. _The healing master said it would take time and conviction more than power, Zuko,_ Katara had told him. _For a wound this old, believing it can be made right is more important than anything else._

_I can do this for you, if you let me._

A few years ago, Zuko would have told her it was the impossible dream of a foolish optimist, but since then he'd seen some of those dreams become reality. After the defeat of his father and sister, Zuko had fought his way to the head of a nation squabbling over scraps, well on the path to civil war. His father may have considered him a failure and a traitor to the end, but Zuko now knew that no one deserved those labels more than the former Firelord. The Fire Nation was crippled by defeat and unbalanced by a century of war. The skills needed to rebuild were almost forgotten in a culture obsessed with destruction: farmers had been stripped of their sons for the army; the legendary forgers could create nothing but war machinery and weapons. There was only the faint memory of firebenders who reined back forest fires or studied the sun and the stars to remind his people they could be something other than warriors. His father had left no legacy but that of pain, destruction, starvation — and a disowned, scarred son.

Time crept on, flowing over Zuko in the rhythms of Katara's breath and heart and water. His breathing slowed to match hers, calm and sure. Slowly, almost without his marking the passing of it, the tension ebbed away.

Zuko had let go of the idea he could win back honor when he realized his father had no honor to give.

So Zuko worked for it instead. He refused to let himself, his nation, or his people fade into nothing, stubborn pride and anger — at his father, at himself — driving him on. Aang and Katara had freely, insistently offered their help for rebuilding, saying they trusted him. In those early days, he'd felt more comfortable with Sokka's open suspicion than their — to his mind — unfounded belief. He had grudgingly admitted to himself that their help was invaluable, especially with the other nations. The whole world feared another war and wished to remove the threat entirely; little more than the Avatar's impassioned defense of the Fire Nation and his outspoken belief in balance and change had kept them from destruction. Zuko had followed Iroh's advice for once and kept his fiery words to himself, feeding them instead into a slow, persevering burn.

He learned that ashes made good soil for crops, that destruction cleared the way for building anew. He found that he should listen to Katara's advice when he was angry and that Sokka was a more practical and thorough planner than Zuko would ever be. But while Aang's optimism lit fires in his people's hearts, it was Zuko's leadership they needed to keep them burning. And he had. The sparks of warmth he saw growing in the rebuilt Fire Nation were more than he'd dared to hope for, and he felt it glow through him.

In front of him, Katara took a deep breath as the water streamed away. Her palm had grown warm against his cheek, and she left it there as Zuko opened his eyes to look at her.

"How does it feel?" She asked, her eyes earnest and blue. "It's not gone or anything; the master said it wouldn't be, but I—"

She fell silent as he raised his hand to the scar. His fingertips pressed gingerly on renewed skin, resilient where it had been dead and stiff. Most of the numbness was gone, and he marveled at feeling the touch of his own fingers once again. A deep ache eased in Zuko as he realized no part of him was controlled by his father anymore, and he cleared his throat.

"Better," Zuko said. "It feels better." Katara grinned at him, wide and pleased, and he felt himself smiling back.


End file.
